


swimming in slow seconds with you

by calamidades



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ghosts, Love Confessions, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Mild Blood, Sharing a Bed, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural Hunter Jung Wooyoung, Tattoo Artist Kang Yeosang, The Inherent Homoromanticism And Tenderness of Being Tattooed By The Boy You Like, Urban Fantasy, borrowing the concept of hunting from spn but it has nothing to do with the show, its not much for a halloween fic but its still there so check notes for cws and details, its soft, lots of bullshitting regarding magic but this is my au i do what i want, mild depicting of injury, unnecessary depictions of the tattooing process
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calamidades/pseuds/calamidades
Summary: “'So you’re telling me that you’re a demon hunter and you want me to tattoo some protection symbols on you?'That was Yeosang’s general reaction, paired with a blank face except for his eyebrows, slightly raised in disbelief. Wooyoung didn’t blame him, as he knew it was an unusual request. After that initial stage, though, Yeosang just shrugged and extended a hand, silently asking for the image he would have to replicate."or, Wooyoung is a supernatural hunter, and Yeosang is the tattoo artist who draws permanent protection symbols on his skin.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 19
Kudos: 103





	swimming in slow seconds with you

**Author's Note:**

> hey its me! this was supposed to be for the "inked" prompt on the 12th day of the ateeztober halloween tag, but when have i ever delivered a fic on time? never. so im posting this now!
> 
> i really enjoyed coming up with this concept, though im still not 100% on the fic. however, i hope you enjoy, and thanks in advance for giving this a try!!!
> 
> i'd like to say in advance that yeosang has a neck tattoo in this, i dont mention it until halfway through the fic so i thought you should know!
> 
> content warnings for this: as said in the tags, there are a couple of scenes with depictions of blood and injury. i tried to keep it as light as possible, but still, read carefully if that bothers you!!! its on the patching up scene and the ghost scene - you'll know when you get to them. also on the ghost scene, the ghost in question "controls" a character and makes them hurt themselves. this is not graphically described, but it happens. also, i think this goes without saying, but it doesnt hurt to remind that needles are mentioned in all the tattooing scenes, you know, giving that they're involved in the process. i think thats all, please let me know if i missed something :]
> 
> now, without further ado, please enjoy your reading!!!

_Bzzt. Bzzt._

“Ouch.”

_Bzzt. Bzzzzzt. Bzzt._

“OUCH!”

“Are you going to say that every time the needles touch your skin?” Yeosang asks, his tattoo gun raised from Wooyoung’s skin. “You’re the one who wanted it in the ribs. I told you it was going to hurt.”

“You also told me I have a high pain tolerance.” Wooyoung whines. He’s lying down on his side in front of Yeosang, shirtless, a sketch on his ribs slowly being filled out by permanent ink. It’s some sort of symbol — not too intricate, but distinct, and unfamiliar to most people.

“You _do_.” Yeosang goes back to his work, ignoring the other’s complaints. His free hand is placed flat to Wooyoung’s torso to keep the skin properly stretched. “Having a high tolerance doesn’t mean you’re immune to pain. And the ribs are a very sensitive area, too tender skin and too much bone underneath. I told you it was your funeral, but you insisted, so.”

Wooyoung grumbles something, defeated, and for a while the only noise in the room comes from the incessant buzzing of the tattoo gun. Yeosang can sense the other boy flinching less and less, which is a good sign, meaning that he’s getting used to the pain. It’s a small tattoo, so they’ll be done soon. At the halfway point, Yeosang delicately wipes the excess ink from Wooyoung’s skin with a paper towel.

“I’m halfway done.” he says, softly. “Is the pain still too much? Do you want to take a break? We can continue next week if it’s too bad.”

Wooyoung shakes his head. “Just ten minutes is fine. You’re right, it’s my funeral, I was the one who asked for a rib tattoo.”

“Yeah, but just because you signed up for it doesn’t mean you have to suffer. We _can_ take a break, I have a loose schedule next week so any day would be fine for you to return and finish the piece.”

“Aw, you _do_ care about me.” Wooyoung grins.

“Taking breaks is a basic policy towards clients.” Yeosang says. “You know that.”

“But you still care about me.”

Yeosang rolls his eyes, but doesn’t deny the words. “Sit up and stretch a little. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“Yes, boss.”

When he gets back, glass of water in hand, Wooyoung is sitting on the cot with his legs dangling over the edge, swinging slowly. His hands are behind him supporting his weight as he leans back and looks around Yeosang’s small studio. He’s been here countless times, and yet still looks around like he’s seeing the artwork on the walls for the first time. It’s endearing, how much awe he has when it comes to small things. Not that Yeosang will ever tell him that, but still.

Wooyoung smiles when he’s handed the water and drinks it slowly. Yeosang hates it, but his eyes travel along his friend’s exposed torso almost automatically. Ink covers a good part of Wooyoung’s skin on his upper body — mostly his arms, and now one side of his ribs, but there’s also a symbol on his chest, right above his heart, and a string of words stretching below his collarbones. These, along with every single tattoo on Wooyoung’s body, were inked by Yeosang. That piece of information makes a feeling of something curl around the tattoo artist’s guts and chest — it’s not quite possessiveness, which would be irrational, but it’s _something_.

“So, have you decided yet?” Yeosang asks.

“Hm?”

“Do you want to go home right now and I’ll finish your tattoo next week?”

“Oh, no, I can’t.” Wooyoung shakes his head and returns the now empty glass of water to Yeosang. “I have a job tomorrow where I’ll need this one, so it has to be done today.”

Of course. “You could’ve scheduled it sooner, then, to give it time to heal.” the tattoo artist comments. “You know I hate it when you go into the field with a fresh tattoo.”

“I’ll be _fine_.” the other boy dismisses his concerns with a hand. “It doesn’t affect the sigil’s power or anything.”

“Yeah, but it’s in the process of healing. If something goes wrong, it could get infected.” Yeosang puts on a new pair of plastic gloves and starts the tattoo gun, getting ready to go back to work. “What’s this one for, by the way? You didn’t tell me.”

“Ah, right! I forgot.” Wooyoung lies back down on his side. “This one is a ghost repellent. It keeps them from getting too close. Kinda like a force field.”

“It’s useful.” the tattoo artist hums. “And the design isn’t hard. So you’re dealing with ghosts tomorrow?”

“Just a small bunch. Not too dangerous, but still bothersome, you know? It was an old lady who requested the service, her house is being haunted and she’s annoyed that the ghosts won’t let her watch her cooking shows.” they both chuckle. “I don’t think they’re any worse than trickster ghosts, but I came here to get the sigil just in case one of them goes crazy and tries to harm me.”

Yeosang nods, understanding, and goes back to focusing on his work. He needs the tattoo to be perfect so it can help Wooyoung in getting his work done.

Wooyoung’s line of work is quite intriguing — hunting supernatural forces of evil on demand or, in worst cases, to keep something bad from happening. He’s told Yeosang that he’s been on the “field” for 7 years, since he was 16 years old, so he’s used to it, chasing demons, ghosts, poltergeists, anything that wasn’t human and that offered danger to someone.

He and Yeosang met one year ago, when he had the idea of getting protection wards and sigils, symbols that he usually drew on himself with sharpie or forgone altogether, inked on his skin permanently. So, he’s friends with Seonghwa, who is dating Hongjoong, who is flatmates with Mingi, who is a tattoo artist in a small studio downtown. Wooyoung actually went to _Illusion Tattoo Studio_ looking for Mingi at first, but Yeosang, his co-worker, had more experience with black and white pieces and details.

“So you’re telling me that you’re a demon hunter and you want me to tattoo some protection symbols on you?”

That was Yeosang’s general reaction, paired with a blank face except for his eyebrows, slightly raised in disbelief. Wooyoung didn’t blame him, as he knew it was an unusual request. After that initial stage, though, Yeosang just shrugged and extended a hand, silently asking for the image he would have to replicate. He talked Wooyoung through the basics as he made the stencil:

“So, rules: one, you try to flinch as little as possible so I can have a steady canvas and not mess up the design. Two, you tell me if the pain is starting to become unbearable, because I can’t have you passing out on me. Ask me to stop if you need a break, if you need to stretch, anything, I know it’s annoying to stay in the same position for a long time.” Yeosang turned to Wooyoung. “You think you can do that?”

“Yes, boss.” Wooyoung replied jokingly, and it was worth it, he thinks to this day, because it earned him the first sort-of smile Yeosang ever gave him.

“Good.” Yeosang held up the stencil. “Where do you want it?”

And that’s how Wooyoung got his first tattoo, a sigil to prevent demon possession inked on his right shoulder. It was the first of many and, along the way, he and Yeosang became fast friends. 

“Ouch!” a yelp from Wooyoung brings us back to the present.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll try to be more gentle with the needle.” Yeosang wipes the excess ink from the tattoo one more time, trying to keep his touches as light as possible. “I’m almost done, promise.”

“No, you’re fine, it just hurts more than I expected. I feel like I’m being stabbed, and I’ve been there, I know the pain.” Wooyoung sighs. “Remember me not to get another rib tattoo.”

“Noted. Have you actually been stabbed before?”

“On the leg, yeah. By a monster’s claws.”

“Spooky.”

“Don’t make fun of me, I was seriously injured.”

“I wasn’t! It’s just, you know, I expected a story of conventional stabbing, not a supernatural occurrence.”

“Really.” Wooyoung deadpans. “You didn’t expect a supernatural occurrence from me?”

Yeosang chuckles. “You got me there. I guess it was because of your choice of words.” He wipes the other’s skin one last time and turns off the tattoo gun. “I’m glad that talk got you distracted, because we’re done.”

“For real?” Wooyoung makes a move to get up but Yeosang stops him.

“Stay there for a while, you were in pain just seconds ago. Take a few more to rest while I wrap the tattoo up.”

The hunter obliges and relaxes back on the cot while Yeosang finishes cleaning the inked area and the skin around it and covers it with plastic film.

“There you go.” he says. “You know the drill already but let’s repeat, apply the healing cream two to three times a day for five days or a week, keep it wrapped up for a couple more days, _especially_ tomorrow during your job and try to stay away from food that could propel an allergic reaction.”

“Yes, boss.” Wooyoung replies cheekily. It’s kind of their thing by now.

Yeosang rolls his eyes, but there’s an undeniable fondness to it. “You’re so annoying. Come on, let’s get to the front desk so you can open your wallet.”

Wooyoung puts his shirt back on, wincing a little because the movement pulls at the still very tender skin of his ribs, and they both walk to the front of the shop. He pays, and, before walking out, surprises Yeosang with a hug. It’s not much of a surprise, since he does that everytime they part ways, but the tattoo artist still lets out a quiet “oh”.

“Thanks.” Wooyoung says.

“You don’t need to thank me, I just did my job.” Yeosang pats his shoulder lightly. “You literally just paid me.”

“Doesn’t matter, I want to thank you for the help so accept it.”

He always does this, everytime Yeosang finishes a tattoo on him or does something for him like buy a coffee — Wooyoung always says thanks even if he doesn’t need to, even if Yeosang says countless times that he _really_ doesn’t need to. Secretly, he’s incredibly endeared by that trait of his personality, of always showcasing his gratitude even if it doesn’t really need to be verbalized for others to know it’s there.

Then again, there are so few of Wooyoung’s traits that Yeosang _doesn’t_ find endearing. Maybe there are none at all. But no one needs to know that.

To show that he appreciates his friend’s gratitude, Yeosang just tightens the hug for a second.

“Stay safe out there and good luck tomorrow.” he murmurs. “Text or call after you’re done with the job.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” Wooyoung nods and breaks the hug with a smile. “Bye, Yeosangie, you stay safe as well.”

And he’s off.

The next day, Yeosang gets a call from Wooyoung at 10pm telling all about how his job with the ghosts went and how the old lady gave him a whole peach cobbler as a thank you along with the payment for making the ghosts go away.

Yeosang smiles through the call, all 58 minutes of it.

-

Contrary to most hunters in the field, Wooyoung doesn’t work alone.

Some of the older, admittedly more experienced hunters, think they should lead the life of a lone wolf and work by themselves, and that teams just make the job messy and put more people in danger. Wooyoung thinks it’s bullshit — he’s pretty sure he would’ve died a long ago if it wasn’t for San, and, to be quite honest, San would be dead too if it wasn’t for Wooyoung.

Choi San is a boy around his age, a few months older to be precise, coming from a prestigious family of hunters that one day just told him to follow his path as a hunter alone, as it should be — not unlike when baby sea turtles have to find their own way to the ocean after hatching out of an egg. San and Wooyoung met by accident when they were 18, having been hunting a poltergeist at the same place, and they weren’t even planning to acknowledge each other, but things happened and Wooyoung’s righteous sense of morals saved San from getting his head bashed on by a bat.

The older boy, of course, said he was in debt and planned to repay Wooyoung for saving him. An IOU favor turned into a conjoined hunting trip, that turned into another, and as soon as they knew, they were hunting partners already. And they have been, to this day, not planning on separating anytime soon.

Aside from working together as hunters, Wooyoung and San do almost everything else together too. They’re best friends, joined at the hip, platonic soulmates, you name it. They even live together because, well, duh.

Which is San’s current point when questioning _why_ he hasn’t met Yeosang yet.

“Because you and him have nothing in common so I wouldn’t think you’d want to be introduced to him…?” Wooyoung explains, spinning in the swivel chair he has in his room. “Why the sudden interest?”

“It’s not a sudden interest, it’s just, you know.” San gestures vaguely with his hands as if it would explain anything. It looks silly, with him lying upside down in Wooyoung’s bed, head dangling from the edge.

“I _don’t_ know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“I’ve met your closest friends. You’ve met mine. So why is Yeosang still a third party?”

“Like I said, you two have nothing in common.” Wooyoung gets up from the chair and plops down on the bed next to San.

“We’re both friends with you. We have to have _something_ in common.” the older boy rolls over until he collides with Wooyoung. “You could take me to see his shop! Maybe I could get a tattoo as well.”

“You’re afraid of needles.” Wooyoung deadpans.

“No, I _was_ afraid of needles two weeks ago. People change. Maybe I have.”

“You’re the worst.” he rolls his eyes. “But I suppose I can take you with me the next time I go there.”

“Awesome.”

The following week, both hunters find themselves at _Illusion Tattoo Studio_. Yeosang is just seeing off a client when he spots them, and he’s quick to raise an eyebrow at the sight of a plus-one accompanying Wooyoung.

“Hey, Woo. Did you get so scared after last time’s rib tattoo that you brought someone to hold your hand through the session today?” he teases good-naturedly.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Wooyoung sticks out his tongue. “But no, this guy actually _wanted_ to meet you, so he asked to tag along. Yeosangie, this is San. Sannie, this is Yeosang.”

“Nice to meet you.” San smiles his winner smile, which is not really on purpose — he’s just unintentionally charming. “Wooyoung talks a lot about you.”

“Not as much as he talks to me about you, I’m sure.” Yeosang isn’t really the best at social interaction, and he’s particularly bad at first meetings, but he makes an effort, because San seems like a nice guy. He hopes the smile he shoots back doesn’t look too strained. “It’s nice to meet you too. You’re his partner, right? I’ve heard some stories.”

“Please tell me it wasn’t the embarrassing ones.” San whines. “Did he tell you about the banshee?”

“The one haunting the kids playground? Yeah, it was one of the first ones.”

“Wooyoung! You said you wouldn’t tell anyone about that one!” the hunter sounds theatrically scandalized, and Yeosang hides a chuckle behind his hand as Wooyoung tries to defend himself, telling his partner that he left out the humiliating details.

“So, uh.” Yeosang clears his throat and points with his thumb to the back of the shop. “Should we get going? Sorry to interrupt you two, but I-”

“No, you’re right, I came here for a reason after all.” Wooyoung smiles and takes out a folded piece of paper from his jacket’s pocket. He hands it to Yeosang. “This is the design, by the way.”

“Pretty.” the tattoo artist muses after inspecting it for an instant. It really is — it’s a circumference with some patterns and inscriptions drawn inside it, resembling mildly the structure of a mandala. “I’ll make the stencil, you can go get cozy in the station.” he turns to San. “You’re welcome to join, if you want to hold his hand through the process. You never know when he’s going to be a whiny baby about getting inked.”

“I _don’t_ need anyone to hold my hand, thank you very much.”

Minutes later, just as Yeosang is about to start tattooing the symbol on Wooyoung’s shoulder blade, San, who was previously just watching the preparation ordeal, lets out a tiny squeak.

“Are you going to poke him with that?” he points to the needle gun. “Repeatedly?”

Yeosang just nods soundlessly.

“That’s how tattoos work, silly.” Wooyoung laughs. “I _knew_ you’d be uncomfortable because of the needles.”

“I _could_ have gotten over my fear.” San quips.

“As if.”

“Shut up, I _could_ have!” he scrunches his nose in a playful frown in Wooyoung’s direction, then turns to Yeosang. “Can I just… Hang out at the front of the shop? In those chairs in front of the reception desk? I really can’t see needles, I didn’t know what I was thinking.”

Yeosang just nods, sympathetic. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

Once he’s out, Yeosang gets started on the tattoo. Wooyoung, like usual, doesn’t even flinch — he really has a considerable pain tolerance, that rib tattoo from the other week probably being his Achilles’ heel.

“He really wanted to meet you, you know.” Wooyoung speaks up. “San, I mean. He insisted he wanted to come here, even with his fear of needles and stuff.”

“That’s really nice of him.” Yeosang comments. “He seems sweet.”

“He is. Most of the time. With me, he’s kind of a little shit, but, like, we’re close, so I think some tomfoolery is normal.”

The tattoo artist chuckles. “How long have you two been together?”

“Hm… We met when we were eighteen, and we became hunting partners not long after, so… Yeah, five years.”

“That’s cool. But I meant how long have you two been dating.”

There’s no resentment or malice or anything negative behind Yeosang’s words. There _should_ be — he’s talking about a relationship he wishes _he_ had, he wishes he was the one by Wooyoung’s side all the time, but he can’t harbor any ill feelings about the fact that he’s not. He’s heard so many nice things about San and, after properly meeting him, he really _can’t_ feel anything negative towards him, or the fact that he and Wooyoung are a couple. Yeosang’s crush — what an understatement — on Wooyoung is silly, it’s pointless, because they’re not really that close. Sure, they’re friends, they talk for hours during their sessions, but it’s not the same. Just by seeing Wooyoung and San interact for a few minutes, he already knows it’s not the same. And Yeosang is not a hypocrite to say he’s not jealous, in the sense of wanting that to be him, because he _does_ , but it stops there. It doesn’t breed any negative feelings.

If San makes Wooyoung happy, then so be it. He deserves it.

The thing is, Yeosang is an idiot. Because he, of course, got it all wrong.

“San and I are not dating.” Wooyoung scoffs. “Does it really look like we are?”

“Stop scoffing, it makes your back shake and I don’t want to fuck up the tattoo.” Yeosang scolds, lifting the tattoo gun from the other’s skin and pinching his waist. “And yeah, it kind of does. To me, at least. Do you guys get that a lot?”

“Not really? I mean, sometimes, but not to the point it gets weird. I never thought you’d make that assumption, though.” Wooyoung muses. “You’re so observant.”

“I know I am. I really thought I was onto something. Guess I wasn’t.”

“It happens.”

Yeosang just hums and they fall into comfortable silence after that. For a few minutes, the only sound is the all-too-familiar buzz of the tattoo machine. Yeosang’s free hand stays on Wooyoung’s back all the time and, even with the plastic gloves, the latter can feel their warmth. It makes his skin tingle and he feels giddy, to the point he momentarily forgets the scratchy feeling of the needles poking him. It’s silly and maybe even a little unprofessional, but he likes having Yeosang close like that.

“So.” Wooyoung speaks up again after a while. “Now that you’ve met San, what do you think of meeting my other friends?”

Yeosang does his best not to halt at the sudden question. “Why?”

“You don’t want to?”

“That’s not what I said. I asked why.”

“I like having you around, so I’d like you to meet them. And for them to meet you.” Wooyoung explains. “At first, I brushed that off, because I thought you didn’t have much in common, but San said something that got me thinking again.”

Yeosang chuckles. “What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Yeosang is friends with you, so we’ve got that in common’. And it clicked that just because you’re from, like, different circles, doesn’t mean you wouldn’t get along.” the hunter turns his head so he can look at Yeosang from over his shoulder. “So?”

“Stop _moving._ ” Yeosang chides again, poking Wooyoung’s cheek. “Or at least warn me if you’re gonna move. Do you _want_ a badly drawn ward?”

“No, no, sorry.” Wooyoung goes back to his initial position. “But what do you think?”

“I think it would be nice.” the tattoo artist smiles, even though the other can’t see it. He hopes Wooyoung can hear it in his voice. “I really appreciate that you’d consider it. Including me like that, you know.”

“I should’ve thought of it sooner, though.”

“What matters is that you did.” Yeosang says. “But I’m warning you beforehand, I’m not really good with first-time social interactions, so it might get a little awkward.”

“Nonsense. You did just fine meeting San today.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did.” Wooyoung insists.

“I didn’t. Stop being stubborn or I’ll poke you in the ribs with the needle.” Yeosang grumbles, with no real bite to his threat.

“You can’t do that, it’s unprofessional. At least threaten me with something you _could_ do.”

“Just… Stop being stubborn.” Yeosang says, quietly. It might be Wooyoung’s imagination, but he feels his touch become gentler, both in the hand drawing the tattoo and in the hand that’s pressed flat on his back, like the atmosphere has shifted to something softer, mellow. Yeah, it’s probably his imagination. “I’ll try my best to not be awkward when I meet your friends, okay?”

“Okay.” Wooyoung croaks out. “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“If you say so.” 

Silence falls again, and Wooyoung’s full attention is back to Yeosang’s hand on his back. The feeling of being poked by the tattoo machine is annoying, but the hand holding his skin in place for a steady canvas makes up for it in warmth and, he dares say, gentleness. He’s not in danger by any means, but Yeosang’s touch makes him feel secure.

“I’m getting tired… Is it done?” Wooyoung asks, after a few minutes.

Yeosang wipes the excess ink from his skin. “Almost.”

His touch feels like a gentle breeze.

Later, Wooyoung and San are walking out of _Illusion Tattoo Studio_ , with Wooyoung’s tattoo already finished and wrapped up.

“You know,” San starts. “I think I have an idea as to why you never introduced Yeosang to me. It wasn’t because we don’t have much in common.”

Wooyoung furrows his eyebrows. “Why was it, then?”

“It’s because you like him. And you were embarrassed of having your best friend meet your crush.”

The younger scoffs. “You’re wrong. I really did think you wouldn’t get along that well because you two are different.”

“Wait, you’re not going to deny you like him?” San quirks up an eyebrow.

“No.” Wooyoung shrugs. “If you’ve noticed, there’s no reason to deny it.” a pause. “Wait, do you think it’s obvious?” 

“Yeah, kinda. You look at him differently.”

“Do you think he _knows_?” he asks, eyes a little desperate at the prospect of being found out.

San snort-laughs. “No, I don’t think he knows. Relax, I think it’s only obvious from an outsider’s perspective.”

Wooyoung breathes out a sigh of relief, and it’s so exaggerated and comical that it makes San laugh even more, which earns him a rather hostile hip-check.

“I asked him if he wanted to hang out with our group of friends one day.” Wooyoung comments.

“Did he say yes?”

“He did. He was happy that I invited him.” the boy smiles as he reminisces Yeosang’s words. “Do you think it’s going to work? Like, do you think he’ll enjoy himself?”

“There’s no way we can know.” San says, but he looks at the sky, pondering, nonetheless. “But I think it'll go well.”

It _does_ go well. When they all meet, Yeosang gets along pretty well with Wooyoung’s other friends, especially Seonghwa, with whom he shares an interest for the arts. He asks if it isn’t against the rules for Wooyoung to be friends with a witch, and the hunter jokes that as long as Seonghwa isn’t causing trouble, it’s fine.

(He later explains that there are witches and witches — and that “bad witches”, as portrayed by most stories, have actually been extinct for centuries.)

Yeosang makes sure to tell Wooyoung that he doesn’t feel awkward, that he’s having fun, and how grateful he is to be included in something that’s an important part of Wooyoung’s life. In response, Wooyoung tackles him in a hug, and his other friends assure Yeosang that he’s welcome anytime he wants to join them.

The tattoo artist, however, misses the way Wooyoung’s eyes linger on himself, latching on everytime Yeosang smiles, or does anything, really. His own eyes linger on Wooyoung as well, of course; how could they not?

Wooyoung’s friends are the ones who catch on, shaking their heads in disbelief at the two boys’ obliviousness.

How silly of them, to stare so much, and yet not notice that they’re looking at each other like they’re stargazing.

-

The thing with being a hunter is that, even if you protect yourself with wards, sigils or spells, you can’t guarantee that you’ll be 100% safe, 100% of the time. Accidents happen in every line of work, and they happen quite often in such a dangerous line of work.

Following that logic, an injured Wooyoung is something that could happen. And it _does_ happen, one particular night. One particular night when a full moon is high in the sky, at its greatest potential.

Yeosang is closing his shop when he hears the front door open slowly. He startles a bit, but promptly turns to the newcomer to announce that “Sorry, we’re closed.”

Then he does a double take.

“Wooyoung?”

He looks terrible. He’s hunching, like he’s tired, leaning heavily on the door, part of his clothes are tattered like they’ve been ripped — chewed? — and there’s dried blood on his face and forearms, blood that Yeosang hopes is not Wooyoung’s.

He rushes to the other man. “What happened? Why are you here?”

“I got kind of injured.” Wooyoung explains. He sounds tired. “I need to rest and take a look at the damage and your place was the closest.”

That makes sense. Yeosang lives above his shop and, if Wooyoung was nearby, his apartment was indeed the best choice. But he’s still not satisfied with the answers.

“Come in.” he gestures and locks the door once Wooyoung lets go of it. “Now, how did you get injured? And why not go to a fucking hospital?”

“It would be kind of awkward to explain to the nurse that I got scratched by a werewolf, wouldn’t it?” Wooyoung chuckles. “That’s what happened. And it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad, my ass.” Yeosang grumbles. “And did you say werewolf? Did it bite you? Are you going to start growing fangs and fur and kill me in cold blood in my own apartment?”

“ _No_ , Yeosang, it didn’t bite me, _you_ gave me a ward against werewolf bites, remember?” the hunter lifts his right hand so Yeosang can see the intricate pattern going down his inner forearm. “It’s really just a scratch, it can’t turn me. If it could, I’d be one by now.”

“Fine, but it sounds like a tough one, are you sure you don’t wanna go to the hospital? You could say it was a wild cat, or something. I don’t know if a first aid kit can solve it.”

“You’re such a pessimist.” Wooyoung walks towards Yeosang. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. Can you take me upstairs so I can make sure it doesn’t get worse?”

Yeosang rolls his eyes and supports Wooyoung’s weight as they climb the small flight of stairs that leads to the former’s apartment.

Once they’re inside, Wooyoung sits down on the couch and Yeosang quickly goes after the first aid kit he keeps in the bathroom. It doesn’t take long for him to find it, and soon he’s back in the living room, already sitting beside Wooyoung so he can assess the damage.

Now, taking a better look, it doesn’t seem to be _that_ bad — it’s not a papercut, but Yeosang was expecting something more life-threatening, and this isn’t. It’s a big injury, for sure, but it looks to be the depth of a scratch, like Wooyoung said. Almost as if the werewolf tried to sink his claws on the hunter’s side, but missed, so it ended up being a graze. Still, it was a graze done by a _werewolf_ , so it’s a big one. 

Being mostly superficial, the scratch most likely didn’t hit any vital areas, so Yeosang narrows down Wooyoung’s worn out state to being caused by losing blood and exhaustion, not anything more serious. He’s quick to put a bundled cloth over the wound and put pressure on it to stop the bleeding.

“ _Ouch_!!!” Wooyoung yelps. “Fuck, it hurts!”

“I’m putting pressure on the wound, of course it hurts, but I have to.” Yeosang chides. “Do you want to stop bleeding or not?”

“Yeah, but- Ouch- Can’t you be more delicate?”

“No, I can’t.”

“The hunter doctors that patched me up when I was younger were nicer than you.” Wooyoung pouts.

“Sorry. Right now, I’m all you got.” Yeosang says. “If you used to get patched up, you know the process right? Because I’m hardly an expert on treating injuries.”

“I’m familiar, yeah, but don’t worry, you’re doing a good job. Despite- _fuck_ \- having a really heavy hand.”

“You know this is the only way I can get the bleeding to stop. We’re staying here for a few more minutes.”

Wooyoung just grumbles in return.

The bleeding ceases after a while, and Yeosang lifts up the cloth carefully to check on the wound. He nods when he sees that it’s already looking better than it was.

“Now, let’s clean this up, disinfect it and patch you up.” he says, then turns to Wooyoung. “That’s all, right? I’m not missing any steps?”

“No, that’s all, I think.” the hunter responds.

“Does it need to be, like, magically disinfected? Since it’s a wound from a supernatural creature?”

“No, it doesn’t work like that.” Wooyoung shakes his head. “There’s no magic in a werewolf’s claws. It’s the same thing as it would be if a normal wolf scratched me.”

“Oh, okay, good. Let’s get started, then.”

Unlike moments ago when he was putting pressure on the wound, Yeosang’s hands while cleaning the area with a damp cotton ball are gentle and slow. He takes his time and keeps his touch light so as to not hurt Wooyoung, and it feels almost _tender_ — though that might be Wooyoung’s own wishful thinking.

The moment is broken when Yeosang starts disinfecting the cut, the switch from water to peroxide making Wooyoung start squirming as the product stung his marred skin. He yelps again, like he did many times already, and Yeosang’s free hand holds him in place by one shoulder.

“If you squirm, it makes it worse.” he says. 

“It _hurts_ , okay, cut me some slack.” Wooyoung complains.

“I’ll try to be more careful.” in a thoughtless act, Yeosang brings up the hand that was holding Wooyoung’s shoulder to pet his hair softly. Is equal parts caring and awkward, but it renders both boys flustered nonetheless. “It’s almost done.”

Indeed, not long after, Wooyoung is already patched up, with clean bandages on top of the wound and gauze wrapped around his torso to keep them secured in place. He makes a move to get up from the couch but Yeosang is faster and stops him with the lift of a hand.

“Don’t get up just yet.” he starts. “Your body is worn out from all that. I’ll bring you water and something to eat while you rest.” he sees Wooyoung open his mouth to complain, and he sighs. “You’re so stubborn. Just stay there, okay? I’ll be right back.”

When he comes back, with a glass of water and an apple, Wooyoung is staring out the window, seemingly bored, with his arms crossed. Yeosang notices that he forgot to clean up the dried blood on his hands, too preoccupied with the injury to remember it. He tosses the apple to Wooyoung and hands him the water more carefully.

“Drink up.” he sits back down on his previous spot beside the other. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” Wooyoung says between sips of water.

“Okay, now tell the truth.”

“I really am fine!” he insists. “It just hurts a little. I’ll be fine after proper rest.”

“It’s late.” Yeosang muses. “How do you get home?”

“Mostly public transportation.” Wooyoung shrugs. “Why?”

“Maybe you should stay over tonight. To make sure you rest.” the tattoo artist says. “Wait, public transportation? You go out to exorcise demons and banish ghosts and then you just take the bus back home like you’re coming back from a regular 9 to 5 job?”

Wooyoung has a mouthful of apple, so he just nods like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Yeosang bursts into a fit of giggles after his response, so he quickly makes space in his mouth to talk.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s funny! Come on, admit it’s funny. People are getting back from class or work and you just killed a vampire 20 minutes beforehand.”

Wooyoung _does_ let out a laugh, then rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “And you say _I’m_ silly.” he takes another bite of the apple. “Anyway, I don’t think I need to stay over. I’m fine, and I’ve imposed enough.”

“You’re not imposing.” Yeosang says. “I think it’d be better for you to take the night to rest instead of making your way back home in your state. You feel fine, okay, but you’re still healing, so maybe don’t go wandering around just yet.”

“Aw, you care about me!” Wooyoung exclaims in an exaggerated cute voice. Then, he switches it back to normal to ask: “Is it really alright if I stay?”

“Yeah.” the other boy nods. “And of course I care about you.”

“Don’t worry, I know you do, I was just kidding.” the hunter pats Yeosang’s shoulder lightly. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“It’s no problem.”

While Wooyoung finishes his apple, Yeosang picks back up the ignored first-aid kit box that was resting on the coffee table in front of them and opens it, picking up the small container with the cotton balls. Then, he picks up a bowl of water from the kitchen and places it on the table.

“What’s that for?” Wooyoung questions.

In lieu of an answer, Yeosang gently picks up Wooyoung’s free hand, dips the cotton ball in the water and starts cleaning the dried blood. The hunter startles at the touch, but relaxes after an instant.

“...Thanks.” he says. “I forgot that blood was still there.”

“Mhmm.” Yeosang nods. “Is it yours?”

“No, no. It’s, uh, the werewolf’s.”

“I see. You killed it, then.”

“I didn’t.” Wooyoung shakes his head. “I don’t like killing beings that are partially human. I don’t even deal with werewolves that much, because when people get turned, they take control measures themselves. Like, locking themselves up during the full moon, and such. So I’m not needed.”

“Why were you needed today? Also, shouldn’t San be with you?” Yeosang asks.

“Today was an emergency call. We had another hunting job at the same time, so we split up so we wouldn’t leave anyone hanging.” the hunter explains. “And this werewolf was loose. Probably one of those that _don’t_ like taking control measures, so they just let the wolf take over. With time, these types kind of start losing their humanity, you know? Like the wolf consumes them bit by bit. But I’m still against killing those, unless it’s self defense.”

Yeosang hums in acknowledgement, then gestures at Wooyoung. “Give me your other hand. How did you get that much blood in you, if you didn’t kill it?”

“We fought.” Wooyoung shrugs. “I got beat up too. This one time, I used my knife, so I had to get close, hence the blood. It spilled on me.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, it was pretty gross, but I’m used to it. Then, I knocked the werewolf unconscious and left it in a clearing. The wolf heals faster than the human, so the person should be fine by the time morning comes.”

“That’s good.” Yeosang keeps cleaning off the blood after the conversation dies down.

It’s a sweet gesture, and Wooyoung feels his cheeks heat up at being handled with such care. He figures Yeosang probably doesn’t mean anything by it other than, well, cleaning the blood, but it makes him feel warm nonetheless. He doesn’t think he ever had his hand held like that, and it’s not even in a proper hand-holding context. Wow.

Yeosang, on the other hand, tries not to focus too much on the fact that they are, indeed, holding hands. Technically, anyway. He feels like he shouldn’t take advantage of the moment, so he keeps his overthinking to a minimum, while still doing his current duty in the most delicate way possible — Wooyoung has had a rough day, he deserves some gentleness. When he finishes cleaning the hunter’s hands, however, Yeosang brushes his thumb over the back of Wooyoung’s knuckles, in an absentminded gesture that feels loving, tender, _right_ — and out of place at the same time.

Wooyoung, who had been with his head down watching the process this whole time, quickly looks up, heart in his throat. He meets Yeosang’s eyes, and oh, how he wishes he could decipher them. But he can’t, and neither can he bring himself to ask the other _what_ had just happened and if, maybe, could he do it again. So Wooyoung just blinks in Yeosang’s direction and hopes it’s enough.

“Sorry.” Yeosang drops his hand. 

“It’s fine. Don’t apologize.” Wooyoung’s voice is almost a whisper. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

They almost fall into silence again, and maybe this time it could even be a little awkward instead of their usual comfortable silence, but Wooyoung stops it from happening with an involuntary yawn.

“Tired?” Yeosang asks, though it’s obvious. “Sorry, stupid question. I’ll go get you something to wear.”

“You don’t have to, I’m fine.”

“Wooyoung, your shirt has been chewed.” he deadpans. “You can’t sleep in it. You can’t do anything in it, actually.” a light-hearted chuckle. “It’s no bother, come with me, I’ll show you where the bathroom is so you can change.”

Yeosang gives Wooyoung a pair of comfortable pajama pants and a baggy band t-shirt that has been washed so many times the front logo has started to fade. They smell of lavender laundry detergent, and they’re Yeosang’s clothes, so Wooyoung feels giddy wearing them. It’s silly, but he allows himself the feeling.

“Where am I sleeping?” he asks after he comes out of the bathroom. “I can take the couch.”

“Absolutely not.” Yeosang shakes his head. “You’re _injured_ , for fuck’s sake. You can have my bed, I’ll stay up in case you need anything.”

“Wait, so you’re not gonna sleep?”

“It’s not a big deal. I can read a book or something, doesn’t matter, but it’s better if I stay awake in case you start to bleed again, or I need to change the bandages, something like that.”

“But you need to _sleep_!” Wooyoung protests. “I can wake you up if I need something, fine, but you should get some rest as well.”

“There’s no guarantee that you won’t sleep through the pain and won’t notice if the wound reopens.” Yeosang pulls out a chair from the desk he has in his room and places it in front of the bedside table, sitting down right after. “I’ll be right here, playing with my phone, and I’ll notice if something’s up.”

The hunter sighs, defeated. “At least sit on the bed instead of the chair. I’ll scoot over to the wall so you can have space.”

“Won’t you be uncomfortable?” Yeosang raises an eyebrow. “It’s a bit of a tight fit.”

“I’ll be even more uncomfortable if I know you’re sitting on a chair when you could be sitting on a mattress. Besides, you’ll be even closer to me so you’ll know if something’s up with my injury.”

“Fine, you win.” he throws his hands in the air in mock surrender.

Less than ten minutes later, Wooyoung is fast asleep by Yeosang’s side, back to the wall of his bedroom. Yeosang is sitting with his back propped up on a pillow against the headboard, reading on his phone and occasionally watering the virtual plants he grows on a terrarium game. The two of them are not pressed together, but they _are_ very few inches apart. Yeosang does his best to respect Wooyoung’s space and keeps his ears alert in case of any noises of discomfort from the other.

He doesn’t notice his eyelids drooping, and falls asleep while sitting up, clutching his phone in his hands.

Yeosang startles when he wakes up.

The first thing he does is take notice that it’s morning, and his phone’s clock confirms that it’s, precisely, 10:21 AM. The second thing he does is check if Wooyoung is fine.

And then he notices.

Wooyoung seems fine. That’s, thankfully, not the issue here. The issue is, he’s snuggled up to Yeosang completely, fully glued to his side, one arm thrown around his waist and legs short of tangling with his. Yeosang’s heart immediately starts beating faster, and he doesn’t know what to _do_ , because at the same time he doesn’t want to wake Wooyoung up, he doesn’t want to stay awake and aware of their position while Wooyoung is unaware of what he’s done while he was asleep.

Fortunately, Wooyoung stirs awake before he can overthink more. He blinks his eyes open slowly and lets out a yawn, hair sticking out in different directions. It’s adorable, paired with his pouty “just-woke-up” face, and Yeosang refrains himself from cooing at the sight.

“G’morning.” Wooyoung drawls. If he notices their positions, he doesn’t comment on it. Maybe he’s still too drowsy. Maybe he just doesn’t mind it. He sits up, and Yeosang’s traitorous mind already makes him miss the other’s warmth.

“Good morning.” Yeosang says. “Did you sleep well? Does your injury feel better?”

“Mhmm, I think so.” Wooyoung replies. “Did you really stay awake all the time?”

The other shakes his head. “I ended up falling asleep. Sorry I couldn’t take care of you better.”

The hunter waves his hand in a placating gesture. “You did more than enough, Yeosangie. Thank you.” 

“I just did what anyone else would’ve done.” a pause. “Say, do you want breakfast?”

Wooyoung smiles. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

They have breakfast together, and in the middle of it Wooyoung asks if he can go back home in the shirt he slept in.

“I promise I’ll give it back.” he says. “It’s just, you know, you were right yesterday. I can’t walk around in a shirt that’s been chewed out.”

Yeosang takes a sip of his coffee. ”You can keep it. This shirt, I mean.” he motions to Wooyoung’s torso. “I don’t mind.”

And, if Wooyoung’s heart flutters at that, that’s his business.

And if, in the middle of the string of “thank you”s he says when they part ways, he sneaks in a soft kiss to Yeosang’s cheek, well. He needs to express his gratitude in any way he can, right?

He says goodbye with a lovely smile that will be seared into Yeosang’s mind for the rest of the day, as well as the ghost feeling of a touch on his cheek where Wooyoung’s lips once were.

But that’s fine, because Wooyoung’s lips tingle for the rest of the day too.

-

Wooyoung goes to _Illusion Tattoo Studio_ with a different purpose one day.

“I want a regular tattoo this time.” he says, elbows perched on the counter at the reception hall. Yeosang is behind the counter, sketching something on a notebook and occasionally looking at the computer. 

(It’s one of those boring days.)

“A regular tattoo?” he puts his pencil down. 

“Yeah, just a tattoo. Not a protection sigil. Just a drawing that I want to have on my skin.” Wooyoung explains. “Whatcha doodling?”

Yeosang covers the notebook pages with both hands, palms flat facing down. “Nothing important.”

“Come on, show me, maybe I’ll get it tattooed.”

“No. They’re just sketches anyway, they’re not done.” Yeosang closes the notebook this time. “And wouldn’t you rather get a tattoo that has meaning behind it instead of just choosing one of my drawings at random?”

“I’m _covered_ in tattoos with meaning behind them. Now I just want something that looks nice.” Wooyoung shrugs. “Besides, they’re _your_ drawings, so that’s meaningful by itself already.”

The tattoo artist chuckles. “What do you mean by that?”

“You’re my friend. Having your art inked on me means that I carry with me something created by someone I care about.” Wooyoung turns to Yeosang. “That’s meaningful, no?”

Yeosang blinks at him, feeling his face heat up as he just nods dumbly.

The truth is, having Wooyoung declare so easily that Yeosang is someone he cares about shakes him to his core. Yeosang _knows_ he’s cared about — they’re friends, for fuck’s sake — but hearing it out loud makes warmth twirl around in his chest and spread until he can feel a buzz on his fingertips. 

It doesn’t help that, ever since the day Wooyoung stayed over at his apartment, his feelings for the other seem to have doubled in intensity, and also become more chaotic. Still, nothing in their relationship has changed.

“Can I see some of your finished drawings?” Wooyoung’s question brings him out of his musings. “I meant it when I said I’d like to have one of your original pieces tattooed.”

The request makes Yeosang feel giddy and happy, and he feels silly for having such a reaction, but allows himself a tiny smile when he turns his back to Wooyoung. He takes a binder from the shelf on the wall and opens it on the first page, showing the other some of the designs he has available.

Wooyoung flips through the binder for a while, occasionally muttering a “wow” or similar interjections of awe or surprise. Then, he points at one of the drawings:

“I like this one.”

It’s a realistic black and white design of a camellia, very rich in detail. It’s one of Yeosang’s favorites, despite being rather common and not really innovative — unlike, say, the Garden of the Hesperides landscape design on the neighboring page. He nods at Wooyoung.

“It’s a white camellia.” he explains. “I like that one a lot too.”

“Then it’s settled. That’s the one I want.”

“Are you sure?” Yeosang raises an eyebrow.

“100%” Wooyoung nods with certainty. “Where should I get it?”

“That’s up to you. It’s not a big design so it should be fine anywhere.”

“Oooh, can I get in on the neck like you? I’d look so cool. We’d be twinsies!”

Yeosang chuckles. “Like I said, it’s up to you, but I don’t think you’d like getting a neck tattoo, not after that rib one.”

“You think it hurts more to get it on the neck than on the ribs.”

“In my opinion, yeah. But it’s your choice. What about this: I’ll print it out so we can try different placements and see which one you like best.”

Wooyoung beams. “That’s a great idea!” then, a pause. “Wait, you said you think a neck tattoo hurts more than a rib tattoo. Does that mean you have both?”

Yeosang just nods. “Yeah.”

“You never told me you have a rib tattoo.”

“You never asked.”

“That’s unfair! You know all of the tattoos I have, and I don’t know almost any of yours.” the hunter pouts, fake-sulking.

“I think that’s because I’m your tattoo artist.” Yeosang deadpans. “Just a thought.”

“... Okay, you got me there.” Wooyoung laughs.

Laughing along, the tattoo artist takes out the paper with the design from the printer and cuts around it, leaving a 1 inch border. He holds it up.

“Shall we?”

Wooyoung nods and they head to the back of the studio, where Yeosang’s station is. They go through many possible placements for the tattoo until Wooyoung finally settles on getting it on the inside of his right arm.

They spend a good few minutes in silence during the tattooing process, until Yeosang speaks up.

“It’s a lighthouse.”

“Hm?” 

“The tattoo I have on my ribs.” he elaborates. “It’s a lighthouse. Takes up almost my whole side.”

“That’s so cool.” Wooyoung marvels. “It matches the compass you have on your neck. You know, compass, sailors, lighthouse.”

Yeosang nods. “They match the pirate ship I have on my thigh.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not! Why do you think I am?”

“You just don’t seem like the type.”

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow. “What type do I seem like, then?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Wooyoung admits. “But not the type to have pirate-themed tattoos. Do they have a special meaning?”

“Mhmm. I got the compass to represent guidance and orientation, the lighthouse has kind of the same meaning plus that ‘light in the dark’ sort of thing… Then I got an anchor to match, it’s on my sternum right below my chest, it means having something to hold onto and keeping myself afloat so I don’t sink.”

“Wow.” Wooyoung exclaims. “That’s so cool, Yeo.”

“Thanks.” Yeosang smiles sheepishly. “The pirate ship looked nice and it matched the rest so it doesn’t have a particular meaning. But when people ask I say it means to keep sailing towards the horizon, as a metaphor, because I’m too scared to admit to other people that I have a meaningless tattoo.”

“You admitted it to me, though.” the hunter points out.

“You’re not just ‘other people’, you’re different. You’re Wooyoung, my friend Wooyoung.” Yeosang says. “Is that weird? I don’t mind admitting things to you, because I feel like I can be myself around you. And I _know_ I can trust you. So you wouldn’t make fun of me if I said something silly or questionable.” he momentarily looks up. “Right?”

Wooyoung is smiling wide when their eyes meet. “Right.”

They spend an instant in silence, like they’re stuck in that very moment, suspended in time. Then, the moment breaks, and Yeosang looks back down at his work, cheeks turning pink from embarrassment.

“Sorry, that got unnecessarily deep real quick.” he chuckles, self-conscious.

“No, no, it was nice of you to say that.” Wooyoung tranquilizes him. “I feel that way about you too. It’s… A really nice feeling. That I can be myself around someone. And I can be myself around you, too.”

“Really?”

Wooyoung’s smile is warm. Soft. “Yeah, really.”

Yeosang feels like he’s falling in love all over again.

-

Here’s a fun fact: Wooyoung is scared of horror movies.

“Wait, how are you scared of horror movies?” Yeosang questions. 

They’re sitting in Wooyoung’s living room, Wooyoung on the floor and Yeosang on the couch, legs hugged to his chest. The hunter had invited him over to hang out — just chill, watch something on the TV, order some takeout to eat, et cetera. San, being Wooyoung’s flatmate and best friend, had joined them at first, but he had to leave because “my mom just called me to have dinner with the family because my aunt stopped by, and my aunt _never_ stops by so I should go”.

Not long after, the movie they were watching ended. In the middle of flicking through channels to look for another one, Yeosang passed by a horror movie that seemed interesting. He figured Wooyoung wouldn’t mind, so he stopped flicking.

“Isn’t it too early for horror movies to be screened?” Wooyoung asked. “I mean, it’s dinnertime. They usually air after midnight.”

“We’re approaching Halloween.” Yeosang shrugged. “I think they’re practicing for a horror movies marathon by screening them a little earlier.”

“Makes sense.”

Throughout the first minutes of watching, however, Wooyoung seemed tense, and Yeosang asked if he was scared of horror movies, not expecting a positive answer.

Which brings us to where we are now.

“Don’t you deal with the real thing for a living?” Yeosang questions. “I thought you’d be, like, at least used to it…?”

“Jumpscares don’t happen like that in real life.” Wooyoung points to the screen. “And ghosts are a lot less scary, for example. So yeah.”

The other boy nods in understanding. “I get it. Let’s change the channel then, find something else-”

“No, no, if you like it you can watch.” the hunter says. “I don’t mind. I’ll just not pay attention.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course. I can see that you like the movie, keep watching it, don’t worry.”

“If that’s so…”

Except, Wooyoung apparently _does_ mind that the movie is still on, because on the first loud noise coming from the screen he startles and yelps. Yeosang mutes the TV immediately and turns to him.

“Woo, are you sure you don’t want me to find someone else both of us can watch?” he scoots closer, or as close as he can with Wooyoung still sitting on the floor. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. This was supposed to be fun, and you’re not having any.”

“I’m sure. The movies they screen at this hour are always bad, anyway, I doubt we’ll find something else we both enjoy. If you’re enjoying the horror movie, the horror movie it is.” Wooyoung looks up at Yeosang. “Though, do you mind if I sit up there with you?”

“Not at all. Come.” Yeosang pats the space beside him.

The hunter gets up from the floor and plops back down on the couch, inching closer to Yeosang’s side. Then, when the movie is unmuted, he unlocks his phone and tries to focus solely on clearing out Candy Crush levels. He succeeds, for 15 minutes or so, until there’s another terrifying jumpscare noise on the movie and he shrieks. Again.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine. Don’t mind me.” he assures, before Yeosang can say anything.

Wooyoung is already pressed closer to the other boy than he was before — their sides are touching and one of his arms is wrapped around Yeosang’s own like a hook. He keeps trying to ignore the movie for a few more minutes, but his eyes drift towards the screen involuntarily just in time for another jumpscare, and he hides his face on Yeosang’s shoulder out of instinct.

“Okay, that’s it.” the tattoo artist says, and he turns off the TV. “No more horror movies.”

“Are you sure?” Wooyoung asks. “You were enjoying it…”

“I wasn’t enjoying the fact that _you_ weren’t enjoying it. I came here to spend time with my friends, doing something we all like. So we have to watch something we both like, or do something else.”

Wooyoung is once again starstruck at how considerate and caring Yeosang is. For someone who likes to play around by being sarcastic, has an acid sense of humor and has such a sharp tongue, he has a very empathic nature and genuinely cares about those close to him. That makes Wooyoung feel very warm and, dare he say, loved.

“Thanks.” he mutters.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Yeosang smiles. “Now, what do you want to watch? It has to be something on the TV or online, though.”

“Ah!” Wooyoung snaps his fingers, like he has an idea. “Have you heard of this new sci-fi webdrama? It’s so cool, I’ve watched two episodes and I already love the protagonist.”

“Let’s watch it.”

And that’s how they spend the rest of the night, engrossed and hypnotized by the drama that, Yeosang finds out, is indeed very good, exchanging comments here and there about the story — and still pressed close together, curled around each other.

(San stays the night at his family’s house so, when he gets back to the apartment the next day, he finds Yeosang and Wooyoung fast asleep on the couch, partially sitting up and resting on each other, a laptop balanced on top of their legs. He chuckles at the sight and adds this moment to the list of “Embarrassing Wooyoung Stories” he can tell in the posterity.) 

-

Dealing with ghosts is, mostly, not that bad. There are far worse creatures to deal with — demons, for example. Ghosts are either dead people who still hold onto something on the mortal plane, or tricksters that absorb mortals’ energy through pranks, like messing with somebody’s house items or hanging around when kids are playing ouija. Ghosts, while being able to stir quite a lot of trouble, compensate by not really being able to cause much harm.

Well, most of the time.

The thing with the first type of ghost, those who hold onto something, is that they can get obsessive if they hang around for too long. And, because the world isn’t an easy place to live, obsessive ghosts are much more powerful than regular ghosts. They still can’t physically harm humans, but they can follow them around, whisper bad things in their ears until it’s ingrained in their brains and, if the ghost is powerful enough, even touch humans and make them harm themselves in the ghost’s instance.

For dealing with regular ghosts and tricksters, there’s a simple banishing ritual that sometimes can even make the ghost find its peace, in case it still has pendent business with the living world. For obsessive ghosts, the banishment is way more intricate as well as dangerous, because in this case, the ghost can — and most likely _will_ — harm you.

Wooyoung has never had to deal with an obsessive ghost banishment by himself, and he’s not sure if anyone can do it — well, except San, but San is a genius when it comes to rituals, so he’s not comparison material. Thankfully, Wooyoung has that very genius by his side right now, because the obsessive ghost they’re dealing with doesn’t seem to be willing to give them a break.

The two hunters had been called to investigate a ghost that had been hanging around a vacant house in the suburbs, and it’s been a full hour by now and they still haven’t succeeded in banishing the ghost.

Granted, this is probably the worst obsessive ghost Wooyoung has seen so far in his life. Its aura is so dark and messy he’s scared of getting hurt if he touches it — which is nonsensical, because ghosts aren’t even material. Ever since San and him got to the haunted house, all the ghost has done besides lunging to attack them was curse and snarl.

Really, the worst.

In the time they spent there trying to get the ghost to cooperate, Wooyoung and San managed to extract some backstory as to _why_ it was there, what drove it to the obsessive point. Apparently, this is the ghost of a young person who died searching for their alleged lover, someone who used to live in this house. What’s tying it to this world still, the reason behind the obsession, is the belief that this love interest still loves them, even years after their death.

Through bits and pieces of the ghost’s story, it became clear that this “lover” wasn’t even a lover to begin with — they were someone the ghost had deep feelings for, but those feelings were unrequited. In life, the ghost took a while to catch on to that fact and, when they did, the reality hit was harsh, breaking their heart. They didn’t, however, give up on the other person, set on winning their affections. Sometime after that, they died.

Essentially, this is the ghost of a stalker.

A heartbroken stalker, to make things worse.

Wooyoung has never been scared of ghosts in real life, but right now he can’t deny he’s being hit with a touch of fear.

Both hunters are positioned in their usual stance when dealing with hostile creatures: San, who excels at the verbal spells demanded in rituals, stays in front of the ghost in the best way he can, and Wooyoung, who’s best at first person combat, fends off the ghost’s attacks, keeping it busy and trying to weaken it enough to make it more vulnerable. That tactic has always worked — always. But now it isn’t.

The usual banishment spells are not working as they should, and San has spent a good portion of their time saying them over and over, more enunciated, louder, clearer, but to no avail. Then, he tried combining them with other spells as a way to enhance power but, again, nothing seemed to work. Wooyoung makes a few suggestions of spells to use and no results come. To make things even worse, the ghost is _fast_ — meaning, Wooyoung can’t keep up with it by himself, so San has to fight too. 

In short, both hunters are double-functioning, and have been double-functioning for an hour, something they never had to do before.

They’re so tired.

“Fuck”, Wooyoung blurts out at some point, speaking to the ghost. “Why can’t you cooperate? There’s nothing left for you here, go the fuck back to the spiritual realm!”

A pair of red inhuman eyes set on him, sharp. “What did you say?” 

The ghost’s voice sounds human, but it’s far away even though it’s present. It sounds like the echo of a human — something that once was, something that’s trying to still be, but it isn’t. It sounds, right now, really angry too.

Wooyoung doesn’t need to worry about the ghost inflicting damage to them — he has his ghost repellant sigil that burns hotly in his ribs and San has his own sigil too, ingrained into a charm pendant dangling around his neck (because he’s, of course, too fancy to draw a sigil on himself with sharpie). But he can feel anger and resentment radiating from the creature, and it makes him shiver even though he’s not really in danger.

“What did you say?” the ghost repeats.

“I said there’s nothing left for you here.” Wooyoung replies. “And there really isn’t! Whoever you loved is long gone, and they were never yours to begin with. I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. If you stay here, it hurts not only others, but yourself too.”

“Are you really giving a pep talk to a ghost right now?” San asks.

“Do you have any better ideas?”

The older just shrugs, because he really doesn’t. If Wooyoung can at least distract the ghost by making it talk, it can buy them time.

“And what do you know?” the ghost snarls. “How can you be so sure there’s nothing left for me here? I might have not been loved in life, but I won’t give up. I’m going to find my loved one, and we’ll finally be together, because I know they still remember me-”

“But do you remember them?” Wooyoung interrupts. “Do you? How long have you been dead? How long have you been here, in this house? You’re so sure that person still remembers you, but do _you_? What’s their name? What do they look like? What do they like to do?”

At that, the ghost looks mildly confused. “I, I don’t- Their name is… I know, I know, it’s…”

That’s a pretty common thing with obsessive ghosts. It’s kind of a paradox — the only thing that ties them to the mortal world is something that happened in their life, but at the same time, the longer they spend as a ghost, the less they remember of when they used to be alive. Basically, the ghost knows what their unfinished business is, because it’s been ingrained in their essence, but if asked in detail, they can’t remember even the simplest things regarding their life. Which is why this ghost can explain _why_ it still hangs around, but doesn’t even recall its loved one’s name.

“You don’t know.” Wooyoung states. “You don’t remember their name, just like you don’t remember yours either. You’ve been here so long, you’ve forgotten almost everything.”

“I haven’t!” the ghost protests.

“You have! And the person you seek for has as well! They don’t live here anymore, they’re probably already old and have moved on from you long ago. You’re just a memory to them, a bitter old memory they probably don’t even like to revisit. Now do us a fucking favor and _let go_ of this world!”

At that, the ghost shrieks in denial, a shrill sound that pierces the hunters’ ears. It’s, honestly, quite pitiful listening to its wails, and Wooyoung feels sorry for it. He’s pissed, of course, and annoyed, but he believes every ghost that holds onto something deserves to find their peace in letting go. So he nods at San, and the older immediately understands that this is a good time to cast the spell for the banishing ritual.

The ghost, however, catches on to what they’re doing, and stops shrieking to lunge at them. The attack, of course, doesn’t reach because of their repelling sigils, but it does throw them off and interrupts the ritual.

So, this ghost is stubborn.

“You’re trying to banish me! You’re trying to send me away!”

“There’s no reason for you to stay!” Wooyoung yells back. “Believe it or not, we want you to find peace, and there’s no peace for you in this world.”

“I’ll only find peace when I’m reunited with my beloved!”

“Did you even listen to me a few minutes ago? That’s not gonna happen!”

The ghost wails again. “You don’t know what it’s like to love someone and be ignored no matter how much you try to be noticed. I’ve been ignored my whole life, but I’m going to fix it now that I’m dead. I’m going to find my beloved and win them back!”

“You’re not.” Wooyoung shakes his head. “We’re gonna send you away, and the moment you go to the spiritual realm where you belong, you’ll find your peace. I promise, you’re hurt now, but it’ll stop once you let go of this world.”

“No!!!” the ghost goes back to shrieking and lunging at the hunter. Everytime it gets too close, it bounces off, but it doesn’t relent and keeps going, again and again. “You know nothing of my pain, you know nothing of how much I hurt! You just want to make me suffer even more! I hate you, I hate you! I hate you!”

In the meantime, San has been trying to proceed with the banishing ritual again, and he feels the spells almost working, but still not getting there. It is, however, better than their previous tries, which means the ghost’s energy is wavering, vulnerable enough to _almost_ be affected by the spell. If only Wooyoung could keep it talking…

“I hate you so much!” the ghost curses. “I can’t even hurt you because of that _thing_ you have to protect you. But I want to hurt you so bad, I really do, you want to banish me so I hate you!”

“Calm down, I want to banish you for your own good!” Wooyoung argues. “Trust me on this, it’ll be better once you’re free from your grudge with the land of the living.”

“I don’t trust you, I _hate_ you!” the ghost screams. “I can’t touch you, so I can’t hurt you, but humans have such fragile auras. If I look, I can see things about you.” its eyes turn even redder and it stares at Wooyoung. A shiver runs down his spine as the ghost scrutinizes him. “I can see everyone you care about. I can _see_ your loved ones. And if I can’t hurt _you_ , I can hurt _them_!”

In a flash, the ghost disappears.

“Fuck”, San mutters. “The spells were almost working. The ghost is wavering, it’s becoming more vulnerable. Five more minutes and I’d get the ritual to work.”

“Now it’s gone.” Wooyoung laments, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t get it. The ghost said it’s going to hurt my loved ones, but, like, everyone I know is somewhat acquainted with the supernatural, my friends, my family, they wouldn’t let a ghost get near them. Everyone knows better than to leave their homes unprotected.”

San fixes him with a concerned look. “Yeosang doesn’t.”

_Fuck_.

The two hunters rush to Yeosang’s apartment as fast as they can. Luckily, one of the people from the neighborhood that had called them to investigate the house let them borrow his car.

When they get there, they walk into quite the scene.

Yeosang’s living room is trashed, there are things broken, the coffee table is flipped and every decoration item is scattered around. The man himself is sitting on the floor, slumped against one of the walls, and Wooyoung’s heart breaks over and over again as he takes in the other’s state.

He looks terrified. Very few people can actually _see_ ghosts, and Yeosang isn’t one of them, apparently, because his head turns to every direction possible trying to see what’s pestering him but he only looks more scared every time he looks. Not being able to see renders him hopeless, his eyes widened and watery. He takes a while to notice Wooyoung.

“Wooyoung…?” he asks, tentatively as he catches sight of him at the door. His voice is weak and scratchy. “I think… I think there’s a ghost…”

The ghost cackles, and every sympathy Wooyoung had for its pain vanishes.

“Yes, there’s a ghost.” the hunter says. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine, we’re here to get rid of it.” he turns to the ghost. “He has nothing to do with any of this. Leave him alone.”

“He has a lot to do with _you_.” the ghost quips. “I’m not leaving him alone. I’m going to hurt him, and you’re going to _watch_.”

“Nice, the ghost is a sadist on top of everything else.” San grumbles. “We need to get him away from Yeosang so we can banish it. Right now, its feeding on Yeosang’s energy, the spells won’t work at all.”

Wooyoung then notices something. The way the ghost is hanging around Yeosang is different, and he knows what it’s doing. “I think it isn’t just feeding on his energy.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s trying to enter his body.”

Ghosts, unlike demons, can’t possess humans, or any living being for that matter. It’s impossible, and that’s an universal truth. That doesn’t mean, however, that the ghosts can’t _try_. And trying already hurts humans a lot.

Yeosang feels everything. His entire body hurts, and he’s not sure if sometime during his ghost-induced agony he had broken his left arm, but he’s unable to move it. He’s never been more scared of anything in his life — and he can’t even see the ghost. Ever since he felt a cold presence invade his apartment, _something_ has been whispering terrifying things in his ears, it started trashing his living room and making his whole body hurt. At some point, he felt invisible hands grab a hold of his right wrist, moving it against his will and making Yeosang hurt himself.

Now, on the floor and leaning against the wall, Yeosang can’t barely move, barely talk, and he’s having a lot of trouble thinking as well. Everything is a mess — he can’t focus, everything hurts, he’s scared. Wooyoung isn’t close enough to notice it, but he’s bleeding where the ghost hurt him. He can see the two hunters trying to make the ghost leave him alone, but he doesn’t think they’ll succeed. He _feels_ the way the ghost is latched onto him. The only way to make it go away would be to repel it, but there’s no way.

Wait.

Yeosang forces his brain to focus as much as possible. Does he remember what a ghost repelling sigil looks like? He spent a good while looking at the design while tattooing it on Wooyoung’s skin. Can he replicate it? _How_ can he replicate it? 

He’s struck with a thought. It’s gross, but it’s the only way.

Wincing, Yeosang takes advantage of the fact that the ghost is distracted by the two hunters and dips his index finger on the blood that has dripped from the cut the ghost made on his thigh and onto the floor. Yeosang is moving sluggishly because of the pain the ghost has inflicted — and still is — and he’s disgusted at what he’s doing, but he endures it. 

Slowly, but precisely, Yeosang draws a ghost repelling sigil on his motionless left arm, and hopes it works.

It does more than work — it makes the ghost disappear.

San, who had been trying to get his spells to work again, blinks in confusion. “Where did it go?”

“Did it go away?” Yeosang asks.

Wooyoung rushes to sit in front of him. He reaches out, but retreats his hands, scared of hurting him. “Did you… Did you do something?”

The other nods, faintly, and points a bloodied index at his left arm. There, drawn in red, is a ghost repelling sigil.

Despite everything, Wooyoung smiles fondly. “Yeosang, you goddamn _genius_.” then, he turns to San. “He drew a repelling sigil with blood, so the ghost probably rebounded, since everything drawn in blood is stronger. It must be nearby still, but somewhere else.”

“And weakened by the force of the sigil.” San nods. “So the ritual must be working by now. I’ll track it.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No need.” the older shakes his head. “Stay with Yeosang and call a hunter doctor for help. He needs it.”

“Are you sure?”

San grins. “I’m the best spellcaster in the country. Yes, I’m sure.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes but smiles in return. “Fine, you arrogant asshole. Call me if ‘the best spellcaster in the country’ needs backup.”

“I will. Keep Yeosang safe, and keep me updated. I’ll find you guys when I’m done.”

As soon as San leaves, Wooyoung calls the hunter doctor he knows and explains the situation to her. He gives her Yeosang’s address so she can come pick them up and take them to her clinic. After he hangs up, he scoots closer to Yeosang.

“Hey.” he calls, softly. “I just talked to a hunter doctor. Remember, when I said the hunter doctor I know would be gentle when treating my wounds? She’s going to heal you. Where are you hurt, can you tell me?”

Yeosang nods. “My thigh. I think my hip and shoulder, because the ghost pushed me into the wall a few times.” he sighs. He sounds tired. “I’m glad I didn’t hit my head. I think my arm’s broken. My whole body hurts, but I don’t know if I’m _actually_ hurt anywhere else.”

Wooyoung looks at Yeosang’s left arm, and it looks normal. “I don’t think it’s broken, Yeo.”

“I can’t move it.”

“That’s what the ghost wanted you to think, I guess. It was messing with your mind. Try to move.”

“I can’t.”

“Can I try to do it for you?” Wooyoung asks, and delicately touches Yeosang’s arm. The other nods, consenting. “Tell me if it hurts.”

As expected, Yeosang’s arm is fine and very much in one piece. It’s a classic mind game played by hostile ghosts, making a human think something that’s not really true.

“What…”Yeosang starts. “What did it do to me?”

“It was trying to enter your body.” 

“Can it do that?”

Wooyoung shakes his head. “Ghosts can’t possess humans, but they can try. It’s impossible, but that doesn’t stop them. It’s like they’re trying to get through a barbed wire fence, but the one getting hurt is you.”

“It hurts a lot.”

“It’ll pass.” the hunter takes Yeosang’s hands in his. “The doctor should be here any minute, she’ll treat you and you’ll be fine.” 

“Why did the ghost come after me?” Yeosang asks.

“It’s a long story.” Wooyoung sighs. “I’ll tell you after you’ve recovered, alright? I promise, you’ll be okay in no time.” 

Suddenly, they hear a honking sound coming from outside. Wooyoung recognizes it.

“That’s the doctor.” he says. “I’ll tell her to come up.”

When the doctor gets to the apartment, she assists Yeosang for a few minutes, asking him exactly what happened and where he’s been hurt while treating his immediate injuries. Once she’s done and Yeosang is out of danger, she asks Wooyoung to carry him to her car so she can take him to her clinic to take care of the rest.

On the way to the clinic, Yeosang falls asleep on Wooyoung’s shoulder, probably out of exhaustion. He presses a light kiss to the sleeping boy’s forehead.

“You’re gonna be fine, love.”

-

Yeosang wakes up in a warm bed.

He blinks, getting accustomed to the light, and takes in his surroundings. He’s in a small room, resembling a hospital’s but not as equipped. He recalls Wooyoung telling him the doctor would take them to her clinic, so that must be where he is. He feels well rested, and the previous fuzz in his brain is no longer present. The pain from before is toned down, but still there.

There’s a warm presence coming from his right side, and Yeosang looks down to see Wooyoung, napping with his arms propped on the edge of the bed and the rest of his body sitting on a chair beside it. He chuckles at the sight, awfully endeared. Then, he wonders how long he was out — and if Wooyoung stayed by his side the whole time.

Yeosang’s chuckle seems to stir Wooyoung awake, because the hunter slowly opens his eyes and yawns. He looks adorable. As soon as his eyes land on Yeosang, they widen, and he’s instantly 100% alert.

“You're awake.” he says as he sits up properly. “How are you feeling? Have you been awake for long? You could’ve woken me up-”

“Relax. I’ve just woken up as well.” Yeosang smiles at his antics. “And I feel better. My whole body still hurts, but not as much as it did before.”

“That’s because some of the ghost’s residual energy is still clinging to you.” Wooyoung explains. “The doctor gave you a cleansing potion after we got here, but she said you might need another one afterwards. I’ll go get it for you. Be right back.”

Wooyoung leaves, and comes back with a small glass bottle containing a rosy liquid.

“Drink up.” he hands the bottle to Yeosang. “I don’t know what it tastes like, but it’s pink, so I guess it can’t be that bad. That’ll cleanse your body from the residual energy and make the pain wear off.”

Yeosang nods and downs the potion in one go. “Tastes like cherry cola.” he comments. “With a bitter tinge at the end.”

“For real?”

“Mhmm.” a pause. “Thank you.”

Wooyoung furrows his eyebrows. “For what?”

“Everything. Coming after the ghost, calling the doctor, staying here with me, everything. Thank you.”

The hunter sits on the edge of the bed and tucks one strand of Yeosang’s hair behind his ear. “It’s no problem. I had to make sure you’re safe.”

“Still. Thanks.” Yeosang smiles back, cheeks pink from the other’s affectionate gesture. “Did San manage to banish the ghost? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. And yes, he did.” Wooyoung chuckles. “I call him an arrogant asshole to joke around, but he really is the best spellcaster in the country. I knew he could do it, after your blood sigil made the ghost weaker. By the way, that was a genius move.”

“Ah, thanks. It was a spur of the moment idea, but I thought it could work.” Yeosang says. “It was a bit gross, though.”

They both laugh at that. Silence settles for a few instants before Yeosang speaks up again: 

“Why did the ghost come after me?” he asks. “You said you’d explain later because it’s a long story.”

“Yeah.” Wooyoung nods. He knows what telling the story implies, but above all, he can’t lie to Yeosang. So he takes a deep breath. “That was an obsessive ghost. They’re ghosts that become too attached to whatever’s tying them to this world still, so they become obsessive. They’re more powerful than regular ghosts, hence why it did all that to you. When San and I were trying to banish it, I said some things that pissed it off, badly, and it wanted to hurt me for real, but it couldn’t because of my sigil.”

That’s it. That’s the time. He’s saying it.

“So it decided to, instead, hurt the people I love.” he finishes.

And he’s said it. The truth is out.

Yeosang looks puzzled. “Okay, I get that. But that doesn’t explain why it came after me.”

Oh. He doesn’t _get it_.

“Because it wanted to hurt me by hurting the ones I love.” Wooyoung tries again. “The _one_ I love, more specifically.”

“Fine, that part I understand. But why did it hurt me, instead? Was that person unavailable or something?”

Wooyoung gives him a pleading look that is almost painful. “ _Yeosang_.”

Silence.

Yeosang blinks. “Oh.” his eyes widen as he looks at Wooyoung. He points to himself in a silent question. _Me?_

“Yes, you.” Wooyoung chuckles. “It’s always been you.”

“But- Why me?”

“Why _not_ you? You’re amazing, you’re talented, you’re caring, considerate, and you’re _beautiful_.” the hunter takes Yeosang’s hand. “How could I not love you?”

Yeosang is speechless. Right there, in front of him, is the very object of his affections, the boy he’s loved for a while, telling him he loves him too. He can’t do anything other than smile — and maybe cry, if the tears welling up in his eyes are anything to go by.

“Please, don’t cry.” Wooyoung blurts out. “I promise I’ll get over it if you don’t feel the same.”

Yeosang wipes out the premature tears and rolls his eyes. “They’re happy tears, silly. Can’t you see I’m smiling?”

“Of course I can. It’s the most beautiful sight in the world.” the other boy says, looking at him fondly.

Yeosang’s heart melts. “I love you too. A whole lot.”

At that, Wooyoung beams. He scoots closer. “Can I hug you? Or are you still too hurt?”

“I’m good enough to get a hug. Just be gentle.”

Wooyoung takes that to heart — soon, Yeosang is being wrapped in a warm hug, being softly held. He hugs back, arms around Wooyoung’s waist, and buries his face on the other’s neck.

“Love you.” he whispers.

“Love you too.” Wooyoung pulls away a little, just enough so they’re face to face. “Can I kiss you?” 

Yeosang responds by giving a little peck to the tip of Wooyoung’s nose. “I have always wanted to do that.” he confesses, giggling. Then, he kisses him again, this time on the cheek. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

Wooyoung closes the distance between them in a slow kiss, and Yeosang kisses back trying to convey everything he feels for the other. He feels like he’s soaring, he feels warm, he feels loved. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When they pull apart, Wooyoung takes it upon himself to pepper Yeosang’s face with as many kisses as he can. In a matter of seconds, they’re both giggling, inebriated with each other.

“After you’re fully recovered,” the hunter says between kisses. “Which will be soon, because you’re strong,” more kisses. “I’m going to take a break from hunting, like a vacation, and I want to take you on a lot of dates. And let you take me on a lot of dates too.” one kiss to Yeosang’s lips. “Would you like that?”

Yeosang kisses him back, passionate, searing. “I’d like that very much.” 

With time, Yeosang acquires the habit of brushing his thumb over Wooyoung’s knuckles, just like he did on the first night the hunter stayed over at his apartment. It still feels loving, tender, and _right_ — but, now, it doesn’t feel out of place anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> heyy if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading!!!!! i hope you enjoyed it <3 i hid a small easter egg in one of the scenes of the fic, let me know if you get it hehe
> 
> please leave some feedback if you feel like it, they motivate me a lot!! thank you again, and see you next time!!!


End file.
